Throw Me Away
by yuuuuuli
Summary: Just when she was ready to move on, he arrived, ready to scramble up her life once again.


Disclaimer: Not mine!

A/N: Hey everybody. This is something new I've been working on recently. Hope you like it! :) Please R&R!

* * *

There were many good things that came with the title of being Hermione Granger. For one, she was best friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. In the past (and not to mention some days in the present, as well), this fact would've made her cringe as she, the responsible best friend, would have to (yet again) attempt (and fail) to get those two Quidditch-obsessed, procrastinating _idiots_ to study for their NEWTs. Or maybe, she would have tried to discourage them from running off and getting themselves killed, while paradoxically helping them on the road to their early deaths. But now that she was older, she didn't worry too much about taking care of the boys. Now, she was content to sit back and relax with them, free from the threat of Voldemort, NEWTs, or anything else that could suddenly come her way.

But of course, her two boys weren't the only benefits of being _the_ Hermione Granger, war heroine, bookworm extraordinaire, and the only student in the history of Hogwarts to get 15 NEWTs (while in the midst of a war, nonetheless). No, there were other things, of course. There was the fact that she was now the proud owner of a small, thriving bookstore in Diagon Alley, right in the center of all the main action. Although, of course, she was just about to expand her business and open up a few (12, to be exact) more bookstores across the globe (how Minister Shacklebolt managed to talk her into that idea, she'll never know, but if he claimed it would help their post-war image, then so be it).

On top of that, Hermione was able to maintain a close relationship with her parents, even after they forgave her for removing their memories and sending them to Australia, as well as a few friends from her Hogwarts days, although people were always trying to vie for her attention now that she was a war heroine, like that blasted Cartwright arsekiss—er, that fellow from the Ministry. Of course, there were always those she knew from the Order, who she would forever be bonded to through the effects of the war. From time to time, she'd feel that sudden pang of loss or longing after remembering someone who didn't survive past the final battlefield, but for the most part, Hermione was perfectly content with her life.

On this unusually warm day, she sat, lounging with Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Luna on the porch of Harry and Ginny's brand new home. As Hermione sat and watched the two couples interact, she felt an indefinable jolt in her chest, which she put off as her missing time spent with friends, especially now that she was so busy with her plans for her bookstore(s). As Ron gave Luna a sweet, chaste kiss on the lips and Harry casually slung his arm over Ginny's shoulders, Hermione's heart ached, which she decided was because she was reminded of Fred by Ron's and Ginny's flaming red hair (it was perfectly acceptable to miss those lost to the war, so really, nothing was out of the ordinary).

Hermione quickly realized she hadn't been paying attention to the conversation and quickly tuned in, just managing to catch the end of Harry's punch line "—and so the bartender says 'I was talking to the duck!'" to which he was rewarded with groans from all around the group, Hermione included.

"Tough crowd," Harry muttered under his breath, prompting Ginny to laugh harder whilst snuggling closer to him.

"Mate, we wouldn't be such a tough crowd if you bothered to learn some genuinely funny jokes every once in a blue moon," Ron teased. "Really, you'd think that after all this time we've been best mates, some of my sense of humor would've rubbed off."

Ron's comment was met with laughs from the girls, but Harry instantly teased back with a grin, "Well, it looks like someone's forgotten about his embarrassing stint at the comedy club the other night," which was met with even more laughter around the circle, Harry included, as everyone watched Ron's ears turn 10 different shades of red. No one could forget his unforgettable show at the local Muggle comedy club, where he failed to get anyone other than his friends and family to laugh at him, or, that is, his jokes.

"Oi! That dingy hellhole was full of old farts and uppity, prissy prudes who wouldn't have seen a joke for what it was even if it bit them on their diaper-clad arses," Ron scowled.

"Ronald," Luna exclaimed in the midst of the raucous laughter, "you would do well to remember that my father was sitting in that very same audience!" She finished with a stern glare that even Snape would have shivered at. Or perhaps, he'd shiver with fright at the sight of the hideous puce sweater that Ginny had jokingly dared her to buy.

There was a moment of silence (in which Ron looked as if he was suddenly afraid for his life, as Luna could be bloody scary when she wanted to be), then suddenly, Luna cracked a grin, sprang up from her seat, and cheerfully asked, "Do you have any pudding?" Then, she proceeded to skip into the house, dragging her wary boyfriend with her.

There was a second where all the friends glanced at one another, surprised at Luna's actions (even after all these years), before Harry and Ginny rushed into the house after the couple, remembering the last time they left Ron and Luna alone with the pudding. Amused, Hermione lounged back in her chair, completely content with listening to the crashes and clamor emitting from the kitchen.

Yes. It was good to be Hermione Granger.

* * *

Later on in the evening, long after Hermione had left the Potters' and their adventures in dancing, she sat alone in her bookshop. There was a time when she had once filled her hopes and dreams into this store, praying to Merlin that she didn't fail. This quaint little store was slowly molded to perfection, becoming her baby, in a sense. She had been sure to make careful decisions, though she did not hesitate to take a business risk when she felt the need. With this bookstore were her aspirations for the future, as well as her memories of the past. It was filled with books she'd already read, books she'd soon read, and books she purchased just because she was Hermione Granger and would put any bloody book in her bloody store if she bloody well felt like it (but if she was honest with herself, she'd admit to a secret obsession with those trashy romance novels usually reserved for girls like Lavender and Parvati). She took great pride in this little store, not only because it had become a representation of her, but because—well—yes, actually, just because it had become a representation of her.

This small bookshop had started out as a rundown dump when she found it in the aftermath of the war. But after her love and care, she turned it into the charming shop it was now. In this sense, it was exactly like her. When she started her first year of Hogwarts, she was lonely, bossy, and slightly annoying. However, after years of creating close friendships and learning from brilliant mentors in times both good and bad, Hermione had blossomed into an amazing woman, whose quiet beauty and unmistakable intelligence charmed everyone who had the privilege of knowing her. This bookshop, like Hermione, had an undeniable charm, containing copious amounts of knowledge, with mysteries hidden away in every nook and cranny. This bookshop was everything Hermione was, and because of that, it was home.

Hermione prepared the store for closing and bid her employees to go home early instead of staying back to clean up, as she usually preferred to right her shop by herself. As she took a deep breath and restacked numerous books in the Herbology section, she felt a sense of ease and calm, the same she always felt when she was in this little shop, as if she was right where she needed to be.

When Hermione was finally finished with cleaning up her pride and joy, she smiled to herself and strolled out of the store, locking up with a combination of both muggle keys and wizarding wards to keep her store safe during the night. Once outside, Hermione stood ready to apparate home, but when she turned around, she was surprised to find a man standing a few paces from her. As she recognized him, her eyes widened in shock as she gave an involuntary gasp.

"Granger," he drawled with his trademark smirk, "don't look so surprised."

There, standing in front of her in all his Pureblood glory, was Draco Malfoy.

And all too suddenly, it didn't feel all that great to be Hermione Granger.


End file.
